by CY Jones
What the hell? My brother and I prove that theory isn’t true. Do all mages actually think that way?
“That’s just idiotic. My brother practices with the powers of light while I choose to study the dark. According to your stupid rules,” I spit out with disgust using hand quotes. “Even though we’re siblings and share the same blood and have grown up with one another all our lives, we can’t be schooled together. That’s such horseshit.”
I’m making a scene, but she really pissed me off. My brother too, judging by his silence. Ever heard the quiet before the storm? Glinda the Good Witch might want to take a step back. I never even heard of this stupid rule before. Granted, our parents kept us sheltered, but that was more for their sake. To protect our family's greatest shame. Now, I’m wondering if there was another reason behind it.
“Hey, I don’t make the rules,” she says, holding her hands up in surrender. “Why don’t you two have a seat and I’ll get someone better equipped to help.” Before we can say anything else, she scurries away like a frightened mouse.
Left with no other choice, we take a seat on the hard, plastic burgundy chairs lined up in front of a partial red brick wall. Mr. Meow follows, choosing to stay on the floor under my chair and people watch. I’m surprised he’s still by my side and hasn’t ran off to explore. We’re in a new place with new smells and new possibilities to ensue chaos. With our bond, he can always find me, so it’s not like he can’t catch up to me later, wherever they decide to stash me. He probably senses my distress and is being nice for once. Normally, he’s an asshole.
Bored, I look around. For a school, this place is super clean with smudge free walls and polished to perfection floors. I don’t even see a cobweb insight in the corners of the ceiling or the hanging antique portraits. Already, I hate this place and their stupid rules. Maybe, instead of sulking about coming here, I should have taken the time out to read the pamphlet we were given, and better educate myself on the prejudiced ways of Crescent Moon Academy. Maybe then my brother and I wouldn’t have been blindsided and sitting here shell shocked by the real possibility of being separated on the first day.
We haven’t even been here five minutes yet, and we’re already having problems. I can’t help thinking we’re in over our heads. We’re not used to rules. We live in a vast community of harlequins where chaos and mayhem is encouraged. Fuck, we thrive on it. It fuels us. Propels us forward. Here, it feels like we’ve just been brought to a halt by leashes and collars. I’m just waiting on the cage to drop over our heads to make everything official.
Feeling my unease, Quinn takes my hand in his and laces his fingers through mine. A warmth blossoms over my body as he uses his power to calm me. We may not be true twins, but we’re close and very intune with each other. This, with our hands clasped together, is our stand. No one can break us up. Not even this hellhole.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“If they try to separate us we should leave,” he suggests.
“This again,” I sigh. “You know we can’t. We have to learn to control our powers from a university or we won’t be able to use our magic again. If that happens, we’ll bring shame to our family and Dad will lose his position as Head of the Commune. He’s already on thin ice as it is for not enrolling us sooner. If we run, Leslie will blame me and have my head. She’ll send our siblings after us with no hesitation and no one wants that.” I shudder at the thought. “If they separate us, we’ll just have to deal with it the best we can and work a way around it. Besides,” I say after a brief silence. “We’re harlequins. We were born to break the rules. If any two people can find a loophole, it’s us.”
He doesn’t like this anymore than I do, but he gets it. He knows if we fuck up here, he may be able to go back home, but I won’t be welcomed, no matter who’s at fault. Leslie will crucify me and leave my body hanging out front until the decay of my death stinks up the whole neighborhood. When it comes to fears, I fear her more than this school of sadist and murders.
Still holding my hand, Quinn leans into me and we sit quietly both lost in thought. Shoulder to shoulder with the side of our heads pressed at the temple, we draw strength from each other. In this place we’ll need it.
“Don’t you two look darling,” a voice sneers and I look up to the most gorgeous boy I have ever seen in my entire life. I’m stunned silent, so much so I can’t even come up with a clapback to his obvious dig, which is very unlike me. Normally, I’m the queen of smart remarks. Just ask Leslie, she’ll tell you. Kaydence, I think that’s her name. Fuck it, Glinda the Good Witch steps up from behind the hot stranger with a strained look on her face. Where the hell did she go to get help? A modeling agency? She gives the new boy just as wide a berth as she did me when she learned I practiced in voodoo but fails to hide her flaring nostrils or the heat in her eyes. She’s obviously attracted to the new boy, even though it’s clear they are on different sides of this institution's metaphorical tracks. Interesting.
Growing up in a household filled with people who’d murder you in your sleep, you learn to read people real quick. And I can tell by one short glance this beautiful boy does not like me. In fact, he may just despise me, which is crazy since he doesn’t even know me.
“Hey, guys,” Glinda says, tuning up the cheer. “This is Zion Hawthorne. He’s a dark mage, and will be the one to show Angelica around the other side of the campus while Quinn comes with me.”
Before I can object, Quinn stands, sizing the newcomer up, going straight into protective brother mode. He may be dressed like he’s the clown at a kid’s birthday party, but right now, in this moment, the look on his face says ‘fuck with my sister and you’ll regret it’. It’s sweet. It really is, but I can handle myself.
“If you’re ready, we should get moving and don’t worry about your bags. Once your rooms are sorted out, the staff will move your bags for you,” Glinda says, trying to cut through the tension.
“What do you mean by ‘sorted out’?” I ask, just catching onto her words since both my brother and the new guy are still busy with their alpha, testosterone staredown or whatever the fuck they are doing. Guys and their pissing contests.
Glinda shuffles her feet while looking uncomfortably at the floor. She’s nervous. I make her nervous. “Well, they had you set to live in the dorms on this campus, but since you’re a dark mage, that’s not feasible and you’ll have to be moved.”
“Of course I will,” I mutter.
“This is bullshit,” Quinn shouts, snatching his gaze away from the newcomer. With his blazing blue eyes focused completely on Glinda, she shrinks away like she got burned, and really, I don’t blame her. Quinn looks really scary right now.
“What’s the matter, light boy? Upset your sister won’t be sucking your dick tonight? Don’t worry, our campus isn’t that far away. I’m sure she can still pay you a visit.”
That was the wrong thing to say. With murder in his eyes, Quinn holds out his hand and his staff flies into it, having being summoned from the pocket in the universe all staffs resides until their masters call on them. In his hand, he twirls it expertly between his fingertips like it’s a natural extension of his body, making the bells attached jingle in a rhythmic sound. Zion snarls, holding his own hand out in front of him, bracing for a fight. Judging the cocky smirk on his pretty face, this was exactly the outcome he wanted. The arrogant asshole bated my brother on purpose. An underhanded way to learn Quinn’s range of power.
A medium size fireball forms in his hand, hot and blazing, ready to kill if need be. In a well synchronized dance, they circle each other, sizing each other up with deadly intent. I move back and grab Glinda, yanking the back of her sweater until she’s out of range. I don’t know why she’s so shocked. Didn’t she tell us light and dark mages don’t get along?
I’m conflicted. Part of me, the dark twisted part, is excited to see Quinn fight the newcomer for me, but the rational side knows this is wrong. It’s too early in the game to be showing our hand.
&n
bsp; Playing to his strengths, Quinn is quick on his feet and like lightning, he’s on Zion, striking his staff with well precise hits. As soon as he hits one spot, he moves and strikes at another, laughing with manic joy as he taunts Zion. How harlequins are classified as light mages I would never know. We’re all fucking crazy, tiptoeing on the thin line of psychotic. Sure, they wear bright clothes with sparkles and bells and like to joke around, but they are hypnotic and deadly to the extreme. Harlequins will happily lure you in with the promise of games and a good time, knowing full well the price of playing is your life. Think the Joker, decked out with all his killer finery, add a deck of cards, and a lifetime supply of Redbull and you have yourself a harlequin.
The fireballs Zion uses are useless against Quinn since my brother is so fast. So, he changes up his assault with streams of fire he uses to surround himself. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling Zion is only toying with my brother, keeping what he can really do under wraps. Something Quinn would be smart to do himself. Everyone is watching and taking notes, we are the newcomers afterall. Zion Hawthorne isn’t the only one who wants to see what my brother can do. I flinch when Quinn’s sleeve catches fire, but he stays in control and doesn’t freak out, using his staff to douse the flames.
Harlequins are made to fight in the shadows. Their powers are sneaky and hypnotic, meant to lure their prey to them, which puts Quinn at a disadvantage in a close combat fight like this one. Zion must be knowledgeable about harlequins, which is why he goaded Quinn to fight him here. Outside or a room with more space to move around, he’d lose the advantage. I commend his effort. Not once has he fallen for the hypnotic jingle of Quinn’s bells, and despite Quinn’s speed, he stays one step ahead. Having seen enough and not wanting my brother to get hurt, I sneak behind Zion and yank a strand of his hair from his head. He turns toward me, but like my brother, I’m quick and am gone before he fully turns.
Wrapping the hair around the doll on my pack, I hum, casting a spell using one of my two fast go-to songs. What’s that you ask? Well, I’m dyslexic and I have a hard time memorizing spells, so I have two songs I absolutely adore that I replace the words of the songs with so they are easier to remember and don’t get jumbled up in my head. Denmark + Winter “Every Breath You Take” is what I use for everyday spells. The other, Denmark + Winter “Secrets.” If you hear me humming that tune, you better run because it always ends in death. No one knows this little tidbit about me but my father. Not even Quinn knows. When our father first started training me, he told me to keep everything about my powers a secret besides my voodoo and whatever harlequin magic I can muster.
Suddenly, Zion’s whole body stops as my spell freezes him in place and he focuses his blazing honey colored eyes on me, having successfully deciphered that I’m the culprit to his current predicament. His eyes are beautiful and they glow with reddish-brown flames, shining with an inner light. A picture perfect wildfire setting ablaze everything within its reach. I wonder, how much does he wish he can set me on fire right now? Pretty damn badly I bet.
“Don’t,” I call out to Quinn, halting him with my hand, when he moves to take advantage of Zion’s compacitated state. There's no need for us to fight dirty when I clearly have the advantage. “I can handle him, Quinn.”
“What is going on?” A voice booms before a man materializes in front of us out of thin air. With his shocking white hair, long white beard, and robes, I shit you not, he looks like Dumbledore from Harry Potter. Yes, mages watch Harry Potter. It’s one of my favorite movies of all time. #Team Slytherin.
We have caused quite the scene. Students who should be in class linger about, delighted by the spectacle. Give them a tub of buttered popcorn and a soft drink and they’d think they were at the movies. And to think, my money was on me starting the first fight.
“Headmaster, I’m so sorry, there was a little... altercation,” Glinda apologizes on all of our behalfs. I’m still struck dumb by the Dumbledore doppleganger, Quinn is furious I stopped him from killing someone, and since he’s still under the control of my doll, the mouthy douchebag can’t move or speak.
“What kind of an altercation?” he inquires, raising a bushy white brow.
“What kind of institution are you running here? I thought there was a twenty-four hour settling in period. As soon as we stepped through the door, we’re getting attacked. Sure, I get that’s the concept of coming here, but could we at least get our day to settle in? If I knew this place was like Hunger Games at the cornucopia, I would have brushed up on my ‘how not to get killed on the first day manual’,” my brother rants on. It’s been awhile since he’s been this angry.
As he talks, I move the doll to my lips to smother my laughter, which causes Zion to shutter and let out a low groan in his throat. My attention moves back to him to find his eyes pinned on me smoldering. Oops, indirect kiss, my bad.
“This asshole insulted my sister, but that was after we learned you’re splitting us up. What kind of place is this that you’ll separate twins?” Quinn explodes as I catch the tail end of his angry rant after jolting myself from the douchebag next to me’s heated gaze. What the fuck is wrong with me? Bad boys equal trouble.
“I’m sorry. I was told your sister isn’t a harlequin like yourself. If I was informed wrong, you have my apologies.”
“She isn’t, but still. That’s no reason to separate us,” Quinn fumes.
“Ahh, my boy, but it is. Not even five minutes around each other and you’ve already entered into a duel with Mr. Hawthorne. I admit your situation is quite… unique,” he says, choosing his words wisely. “It’s quite rare for twins to be born with different abilities.” His words send a chill rippling through my body and my brother’s eyes clash with mine in apology. He knows he fucked up by bringing attention to us, but it’s not like I can blame him. He’s hot-headed when it comes to the things he’s passionate about and nothing strokes his fire more than me. Our family's temper is one people make stories about.
“It’s not that I’m not a harlequin. I can do it, it’s just I respond strongly to the dark arts,” I explain, trying to fix this mess before they call our parents. I shutter at the thought of Leslie showing up in all her blonde perfection. She’d castrate me with that staff of hers and I don’t even have a dick.
“Then, my dear, the decision is up to you. You can stay with your brother and be taught alongside him or you can nurture and grow the dark power I sense inside you and take lessons with Mr. Hawthorne and the other dark mages.”
I look to my brother before I give my answer. His eyes say it all. He wants me to stay with him, but if I do, I can’t help but feel like that would be a mistake. I won’t grow. He will progressively get better while I’ll stifle and die. Our father taught me what he could, but beyond the powers of the harlequin, everything else was hit or miss. I want to find out what I can really do and I can’t do that with the light mages. I have to grow more powerful, carve out a place here for myself, or I’ll be easy pickings and be killed.
“I’ll go to the dark side,” I answer without turning away from my brother or the look of betrayal taking over his irises.
“Great,” the headmaster claps his hands, delighted by my answer. At least someone is happy.
“I’ll find you later, unless that’s not allowed?” I question, turning away from my brother and looking pointedly at the headmaster. I want to assure Quinn that everything will be alright. I can’t leave it like this.
“Oh, that’s fine. There’s common spaces all over the campus,” Dumbeldore doppelganger chirps. I hear his words, but his eyes say something different. What he means are, there are safe zones on campus. A designated space away from all the killing.
I did my homework and know just how places like this work. The real reason why the council made academies like these mandatory. It’s pertinent we keep our existence a secret from humans. With the rising number of mages over the centuries, that has become a lot harder. Accidents happen and normies always seem to find themse
lves in the wrong places at the wrong times. Places like this exist to lower our numbers by weeding out the weak.
Notice how my brother and Zion didn’t get into trouble for fighting? Any normal school you’d get expelled, or at least a detention. Here, we’re expected to duel each other to the death. Like a twisted game of natural selection and Survivor all rolled in one. I’m sure Leslie sent me here hoping I’d die and she could finally be rid of me.
“Don’t be mad at me,” I plead with my eyes and Quinn sighs, giving in. He could never stay mad at me long, nor me him.
“You’re lucky I love you,” he mumbles, pulling me in a hug.
“Can we go now? I got shit to do,” jackass snaps, breaking the moment and I let go of my brother to give him my best glare. Unfazed and no longer hindered by my spell apparently, he stomps over and snaches the doll with his hair wrapped around it out my hand.
“You could have just asked for it. You didn’t have to snatch,” I growl. Maybe I would have given it to him. Maybe I wouldn’t.
“I don’t need to ask a half assed, charlatan of a mage for shit. You’re lucky I’m even talking to you,” he growls back. Nope. Definitely wouldn’t have given it to him. In fact, I would have recircumsized his dick if it was already done.
“Hawthorne, watch your language. Young mages today. I swear you all act like you were born in a barn,” Dumbledore, I mean the headmaster, mumbles the last part under his breath.
“Can someone else show my sister around?” Quinn grumbles, ping-ponging his gaze between Zion and me before making some decision in his head and grabbing my arm like I’m five. This again. I can practically feel the points I scored by outsmarting Zion slip away with his overbearing brother act. I’m not a fucking damsel and I am damn sure not in distress. Someone, please, save my brother because I’m like point five seconds from stabbing this fool. Sometimes, I get in a stabby mood and like to keep daggers close.
“I’m afraid not. The task always falls on the three students who are at the top of their class. The other two are already busy showing their person around. Mr. Hawthorne was the only one available, but fret not. With this little misunderstanding handled, I’m sure things will turn around. Now, off you go,” he shoos us forward. “You both have class early tomorrow.”